


Common Ground

by Airmid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Says Yes, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 20:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8299676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airmid/pseuds/Airmid
Summary: “Dean you have the Commander of Heaven nesting in you and you want to go on a ghost run?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote several pieces over the years regarding season five that honestly should have their own collection called "What If". This piece fits into that and takes place shortly after The Song Remains the Same.

He really hated angels. Rabidly hated, like with a junkyard dog chasing an intruder kind of intensity. Cas was the exception but he was like half and half right now so Dean wasn’t sure if he counted.

But right now he hated one angel more than any other.

“Say yes to me.”

He swore that Michael actually growled and he wasn’t digging the whole being pinned down on a bed while an angel who looked like his father was doing something vaguely sexual. Like in the bad place touch kind of way and it wasn’t making him friendlier.

“I will take Sam to my brother if you do not say yes to me.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Where you always this screwed up?”

The question plunged them into silence as Michael tilted his head in that bird like way and he thought of Cas hoping he wasn’t coming back soon. He so did not want to see this.

“There is nothing wrong with me. I merely want you to do what you are supposed to, you obstinate thing.”

There wasn’t malice in the angel’s voice, just confusion. Like he was trying to process something that wasn’t in his normal range of know-how and felt off.

Then Dean had the stupidest plan ever. It was the kind of stupid you could expect from a Winchester; reckless and not well thought out. In fact he was basing it on something the devil kept blabbing about to Sammy and he wondered if it was true.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said and Michael somehow tilted his head more.

“What kind of deal?”

“Well one, you protect Cas and Sam and Bobby. No dragging my brother off to the devil, whether you’re all up in me or not. And you put dad back.”

“I assume there is another condition,” Michael said dryily but he was interested.

“Well yeah. This is a trial possession, buttercup. You do this, I’m conscious and I want you to look at my memories. All of them. If we don’t get along after that I kick you out and I guess it’s back to whatever the hell this freak show is.”

This impossible being of glory and thunder who was still straddling in ways that Dean did not want to think of as erotic blinked slowly as if contemplating. He felt the slow trickle of sweat building up on his neck, the fear that Michael could agree and just not do it is real and he can taste it.

“A trial?” Michael asked amused.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“I want a higher stake. If you wish to ‘kick me out’ as you put it I take you into custody. Away from Sam and your infuriating angel.”

Dean pressed his mouth into a line. He didn’t like it, nope not one bit but it made sense the angel would want a bargaining chip.

And Sammy, he had to be protected and if it was worth his soul it was worth his meat suit too.

“Fine.”

Suddenly they were standing at the foot of the bed. Dean had to actively keep reminding himself that it wasn’t his father just doing whatever the hell it was they were doing.

“I need to return John to the proper time,” the angel said grabbing Dean’s arm and he felt the world move way more than usual during angel airlines. Given the age of his father he figured this was more to do with the whole getting his own Back to the Future movie. At least Liberian terrorists weren’t going to gun him down and damn was his mind gone.

They were in some grass outside of the house they had made their last stand against Ana in. It was unearthly quiet.

“Dad…dad will be safe here right?” Dean managed unable to even get out a quip about the unexpected travel.

“Yes. My counterpart in this time knows what is going on and will assure to his safety and to Mary’s who is sleeping inside. Dean Winchester, on our conditions, do you consent to be my vessel?”

“Yes,” he whispered and felt his father’s mouth on his before all of his world was turned into light and fury.

* * *

 

 

He blinked a few times and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed that had been the scene of a crime by a handsy angel earlier. Surprisingly he was in control of his body but the strange buzz within him, a feeling of being full, told him Michael was definitely in there.

_I keep my bargains_.

Wow, just a little bit snippy but he felt relieved all the same.

“So what do we do here?” Nope not crazy at all talking to empty space. Given where his head had been maybe he did need to be with Martin in the psych ward.

_Do whatever you like. We’ll talk in a while._

“I suppose that doesn’t include stabbing myself with angel blades?”

_Yes, please refrain from that. Castiel’s blade won’t kill me but it is unpleasant._

There was a faint hum of amusement as Michael seemed to recede from his mind and Dean found himself staring at an empty room. He had no idea what to do with himself. He had the Warrior of God in him so even he knew not to sit around watching porn.

He didn’t need Sam here to tell him that was inappropriate.

Though he realized if he sat here thinking he was going to have a major freak out over all of this and that was unacceptable. One foot in front of the other and he had to keep going. He had to keep them safe regardless of whatever was going on in him.

Figuring fresh air would be good he grabbed Baby’s keys and went to find food. Pie always made him feel better and he really needed to feel better right now. Fortunately Sam had walked to the library and double fortunate his overgrown little brother wasn’t here for all this. He couldn’t take those sad eyes right now.

Starting the car he remembered the diner a few miles back and drove to it, hoping for pie and some coffee. Because that’s exactly what he needed, to be more jittery. Michael was still all up in there but silent and distant and he had no idea what to make of that. He wanted to keep moving, like if he started running he could outrun what was in him.

Sam would give him a remarkable face for that one, he thought as he pulled in to park.

Of course this was also the time the Winchester luck, whatever that was, ran out and Cas showed up.

“Your room was vacant so I –“

Cas cut off and Dean felt a stab of fear and heartbreak at those eyes. Those two big blue eyes of the angel who had gone to hell to drag him out, died for him, fell for him and he wanted to say a lot. Things Sam never gave him credit for knowing.

Though right now he also figured that not being stabbed was a good plan as the angel drew a blade from nothing.

“Cas wait. Please wait,” he said putting up his hands as the angel’s face twisted into something bitter.

“How could you? After everything how could you give him what he wants, to take all of this?”

Michael, being the helpful bastard that he was, added nothing to this conversation.

“We have a deal Cas. I – I wanted to see if he could understand.”

Cas seemed to pause, blinking in that slow fashion like he needed to be wound up.

“You are still in control?”

“Yes.”

There was that head tilt thing and Dean was dying to ask their Dad just why the hell they all did that. Was it an angel dysfunction?

“You want to see if he can understand humans.”

Well that was probably the freakin’ flowery way to put it.

“Yeah something like that. In the meantime I’m going to get some pie. Part of our deal is not to hurt you Cas.”

The blade was gone and they walked inside, Cas still studying him intently with a wariness, like Dean was going to go super nova right here. He didn’t know if that was far from the truth.

* * *

 

 

By the time he had worked through three slices of pie and twice as many cups of coffee he still hadn’t heard anything from his hitchhiker and Sam had called asking where the hell they were at as they had bones to burn.

Cas was being Cas, stared at him intently in that ‘I see your soul’ way of his. Which was probably true Dean decided. The angel looked far less nervous now, like he saw something in there that was interesting. Dean wouldn’t put it past him, though he felt like a freakin’ IMAX screen with the stares.

He couldn’t put off going to Sam anymore and so they went back to the room as he needed to pack a bag, hoping that Mike in there wouldn’t pop out during a salt and burn.

What he was going to tell Sammy he didn’t know.

“Tell him the truth,” Cas said as he walked towards the door which swung open revealing his pissed off waiting brother.

“Truth about what?” Sam instantly demanded.

“My brother and yours are cohabitating,” Cas said serenely, like it was normal. Like they had a rental agreement on a shared condo or something. Which would be bad as Mike didn’t seem to be like the real share and care kind.

“No,” Sam whispered shrinking back. “Oh God Dean no. Please tell me it’s not true. Please don’t take me to Lucifer.”

Watching his brother shrink back into a corner and deflate like one of those giant parade balloons broke him a bit more.

“Sammy, you aren’t going anywhere okay? You hear me Sam? You aren’t going anywhere!”

He managed to get his hands on the sides of Sam’s face, his brother’s ridiculous hair all caught in his fingers and got his brother to look at him. Sam’s eyes were all bright and damn, was this terrible.

He had stupid plans, he decided.

“Why do you have control?” his brother managed to get out. “I – I thought they would force us down.”

“Part of the deal Sam. He’s looking through my memories. If he and I can’t get along I kick him out.” He applauded himself for leaving off the whole ‘in custody’ thing at the end.

Sam gave him a look he’s never seen before, somewhere between hysterical and awe and Dean’s not sure he wants to see it again.

“That’s, that’s just insane,” Sam breathed and seemed to want to touch him, like he could touch Michael in there.

“Thanks Sam. We got a corpse to salt and burn,” he replied grabbing his brother’s hand to haul him up. Since if he didn’t go Sammy was going to do it by himself and that couldn’t happen. Somewhere in him he knew he couldn’t let Sam go again.

“Dean you have the Commander of Heaven nesting in you and you want to go on a ghost run?”

There was the Sam he knew, the one who would probably cry himself to sleep thinking he was a failure but right now he was pulling it together for him. Dean looked at him and wondered when he failed him so badly.

Something stirred deep for just a moment.

_You didn’t._

Then it was gone, Michael receding back to where ever he went in there. Shifting around a bit he tried to not think how weird this was.

“Yeah Sam, people be dying. Might as well keep on keeping on till we can’t keep on anymore.” He tried for a smile and it actually felt almost fully genuine.

Sam managed to roll his eyes and was still looking at him like it was Lucifer in the room at times but they packed up and drove to the graveyard as the sun was setting.

* * *

 

 

Digging up a grave was never fun, he lamented to himself an hour in. Whoever came up with the six foot rule should be salted and burned themselves. Preferably while alive. His shirt stuck to him with sweat along with probably half the dirt they’ve moved so far. He wiped his brow and kept going hoping to get this bitch up before the owner came back to check.

“Does he say anything?”

“Not really.”

Which was kind of odd. He was the talkative sort and seemed all confused at not being listened to. Which seeing as he was used to barking orders at the peons, Dean could understand.

Sam looked all antsy again. Christ his brother was a girl.

“What’s it feel like?”

Also add massive geek to that.

“No idea how to tell you Sam. He’s just there,” Dean said and felt the archangel shift just ever so slightly. “He moves sometimes. I dunno.”

“Like being pregnant?”

“Yeah Sammy, totally like that since I have firsthand experience.” Dean rolled his eyes which he was sure his brother missed with how little light there was.

Somehow they managed to break the coffin open right before the spook came back. Watching her throw Sam before he can swing the iron was more incentive than he needed to light that fire. Scrambling out of the grave with what felt like assistance he made it Sam who was staggering up but alive.

“You okay Sammy?”

“Yeah, bruised shoulder but nothing broken.”

“Good,” Dean said looking his brother over in the now ample light due to haunted bones on fire.

The quip he had on his tongue about the archangel not helping at all slid back and he swallowed it for some reason. Sam would say it would be the first time his brain was faster than his mouth. Probably would throw in a trademark bitch face of his to boot.

The fire burned down after a few minutes as they collected their things, dragging themselves back to the car. Damn he was tired, it was what-the-fuck o’clock in the morning. He wanted a shower and bed.

“He still quiet?” Sam asked, looking at him like he had tentacles.

“Still quiet. Looking to invite him for a tea party princess?”

Sam scowled and Dean counted this conversation as a win.

* * *

 

 

His brother had dozed off before they reached the motel and Dean was barely able to wake him up to drag him back inside. Sam muttered something in his sleepy state and Dean managed to get him out of the dirty clothes and into bed before Sam passed promptly back out.

Sam’s need for sleep probably had something to do with how over grown he was, he decided. He still checked him though despite mumbled half sleep slurred protests of being fine. Sammy hadn’t hit his head but he didn’t want any internal injuries.

It all looked good and before he even thought about it he was in the bathroom, dirty clothes stripped off and under hot water. Around this time he remembered he was all cozied up with an archangel and felt sudden modesty.

_Relax. I’ve seen you naked before_ , came that voice in his head that wasn’t his. Michael just pulled up from his hidey hole to speak.

“Comforting,” he muttered washing himself as clinically as possible. Like he was a damn stiff instead of his own body and he felt amusement again mixed with grief. “Hey Mikey, you okay in there?”

_No._

The archangel curled back up and Dean put his forehead against the tiled walls. He had broken him, everything he touched broke.

He tried to think about how much the douchebag with wings had screwed them over. Not the fact that he couldn’t begin to know what it was like to be left to protect everything with shit for orders. Definitely not thinking about terrible decisions made to try to save family.

He left the shower as fast as he could. Damn angels, probably some angelic influence over him or something.

* * *

 

 

He was in some field somewhere under a lot of stars in front of a man. Somehow he knew he would know him anywhere now no matter the form.

“Michael?”

“Hello Dean.”

It clicked that he was dreaming and he was pretty happy that it wasn’t about strippers. That had been, well awkward with Ana. Especially when she went all homicidal later. Part of him wanted to blame it on him dreaming about strippers that threw her over the edge.

“So, uh, how’s it going?”

“I understand now. I apologize it took me so long.”

Dean waited a moment, trying to process that one. Michael had an expression on his face and Dean was pretty sure it was longing. A  lot of longing. Way too much longing for him and the angel to have going on.

He wasn’t going to talk about the whole longing to comfort the angel before bed. Since this was the same archangel who had been stalking him and making life hell. He didn’t feel attachment growing. Nope.

“And uh, what’s that mean?”

“We put my brother back.”

“That’s an option?” because seriously if that’s an option he was totally for the ‘imprison Lucifer and not burn the world’ plan going on right here.

“Yes. I would like to know something first though.”

“What’s that?” and he can feel an eyebrow raising up.

“It will make you uncomfortable but it will not hurt.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I guess, have at it.”

With that the angel was just kissing him. Full out, open mouth tongue inside because due to shock his mouth had opened and it was –

It was good.

Dean blamed it on his dream state when he found his hands all caught up in Michael’s clothes. Or when he was returning it.

He’d blame angelic interference when he finally felt accepted if he was in to that sort of pansy thing.

In the morning when he woke up feeling complete and Michael much more present in his body as a happy hum, well hell he didn’t want to blame anything for that. He wanted to keep it.

Sam was going to have a fit.

 


End file.
